“I’m getting there,” James said, a little crossly. He hated being interrupted when he was telling a story. He took a moment to remember where he was. “My jaw dropped as I saw what it was the ancient chest contained.” He paused, daring anyone to jump in. “It was an apple.”

“That’s all?” The small boy looked put out. “I have one of those every day.”

“But it wasn’t just any apple,” James said with a triumphant shake of his fist. “It was the last golden apple of the Tree of Time.”

“How do you know it was the last one?” a girl sitting in the front asked. “Maybe there were others.”